Fifth Year at Hogwarts
by Shokoladche
Summary: Hermoine is starting her fifth year at Hogwarts with her old friends and some new ones... from a cold country. Read it although it's not yet quite finished :))
1. Hemoine and the Message

Hermoine felt something pinning her at the back, as she opened her eyes. One of the books she had been reading in the evening was beneath her making the huge and usually quite comfortable bed now so uncomfortable that one would rather sleep on the floor. Anyway, the book was worth it and it didn't really matter to Hermoine that it had spoiled her nap as long as it was useful to her. Even nap is a strong word, though, to describe the forty-minute-long rest Hermoine took before it was time to have breakfast. Usually such short nights happened to the girl only during the school year, but this summer, which would be followed by her fifth year at Hogwarts, she had already deserved the right to take as many books as she wanted from the school library. This was partly because of her excellent grades, which she had kept for four years, and perhaps a bit because of Mrs. McGonagall's sympathies for the most responsible student in the school. What the teacher had not kept in mind was that for Hermoine "as much as you want" meant a book for every night. Therefore, the last week the girl had spent in sleepless nights reading the interesting novels and encyclopedias she had taken from the library. As soon as she opened her eyes, she jumped out of the bed ready to cross out another day from the remaining on her special calendar, which she had created on her own and it marked the days until the beginning of the new school year. Exactly three weeks were what separated Hermoine from her dream to return to Hogwarts. As she had expected, the summer would be boring since neither Ron, nor Harry were there to break rules and put some emotion into life. Calamity, though, wasn't bad. Knock-knock! She looked towards the source of the noise. It was the window which served to her as an alarm clock since every day the first sun beams entered her room from there and woke her. It was still early and the sun blocked the view, so she couldn't quite see through the window, but the familiar knock was unmistakable. It was certainly an owl with a message. Hermoine quickly opened the window, let the bird in, and closed it again. Because the owl was white although a bit fatter than Hedwig, Hermoine immediately realized it must be Harry's. She called her by name, but she seemed too tired to fly over to her. Why would Harry's owl be tired? The short distances in England were not even one tenth of what would make a good young owl tired. Hermoine approached the bed and untied the message carefully. It was not Harry's handwriting although it was, too, hardly readable as his:  
  
Dear, Hormoina! (after the first line she already knew who the sender was)  
  
Please be so good to exkuse my mistaces in grammathic and speling, but I am in a grate hurry for a Quiditch practice. I hope you have not forgetted my invitation for the summer! Unfortunately, it is not valid for Bulgaria anymore. You might think this is sad, but actually it is perhaps one of the best news I can give you. Guess what! My parents are moving to Ingland because of my father's duties to our country as its reppresentativ. Which practically means I am coming to Hogwarts for this school year! In two days we are moving in, so I will be glad if you visit us in Oxford and show me around London in your famous place for magishians - Daigonne Alley.  
  
Sent me a message soon!!  
  
With all my love, Victor  
  
Unfortunately, words are quite not enough to describe how the poor owl felt after Hermoine squeezed him with all her strength and kissed him at least fifty times. Yes, it was a he since the nametag on the owl's leg said Ivan Krum. However, the girl did not at all care about the owl anymore, she was too excited to even think of her homework (which was quite an achievement for Hermoine). She took a sheet of paper, scribbled a few words, and quickly tied it to the leg of the exhausted owl. Of course Ivan was too unhappy about the fact that he only received a little bit of water before Hermoine sent him back to Bulgaria again. 


	2. Victor and Maria

"Dear Vic, I am sooo happy! Send me an owl when you're here!! Love ya,  
  
Hermoine"  
  
"You're saying your English girlfriend wrote it? Ha, I definitely don't believe you! Who else except me would like you, Victor?"  
  
"Shut up, Maria! Hermoina is at least thousand times better than you and, unlike you, loves me," Victor angrily replied.  
  
"How dare you say any other girl is better than me! I know you love no other than me! Confess that you only want to make me jealous!" she retorted confidently.  
  
"It is so sad that you have to come, too"  
  
"You thought I would let you go to that stupid England by yourself? And leave you in the hands of that little mudblood Hermoina of yours?! You thought wrong."  
  
"You can say anything about me but leave Hermoina alone! She is the best wizard I've ever known no matter what her parents are," Victor hissed.  
  
"Oh, please! She is nothing but a mudblood, and she will never have you!" Maria shouted after Victor who was just about to open the door, but suddenly froze on one place.  
  
"Hey, how do you know her parents are not magicians?" he asked, but Maria remained silent. "MARIA!"  
  
"Victor, I. I only guessed. You always seem to like some silly little girls from muggle families. Why would it be different this time?"  
  
Victor stared at her for a while before slamming the door after himself. Maria was not angry at all. She was actually pretty happy for still being able to control Victor and his moods. If she only wished, she could make the seeker laugh or frown, or both. She did not care how he felt as long as he was close to her and be her puppet. This girl, Hermoina, though. She would definitely make trouble as soon as Maria and her precious Victor got to England. Maria was convinced, especially after he received the little note that was obviously scribbled in a hurry. maybe because the English mudblood was just as excited about Victor as he was about her. 


End file.
